The Lion of Saint Mark | Page 3

the most
aristocratic families were, with scarcely an exception, engaged in
commerce. There were many foreign merchants settled in Venice, for
from the first the republic had encouraged strangers to take up their
residence there, and had granted them several privileges and
advantages.
Between Venice and England there had always been good feeling.
Although jealous of foreigners, England had granted the Venetians
liberty to trade in London, Southampton, and some other towns as far
back as the year 1304; and their relations had always been cordial, as
there were no grounds for jealousy or rivalry between the two peoples;
whereas the interference of France, Germany, Austria, and Hungary in
the affairs of Italy, had frequently caused uneasiness to Venice, and had
on several occasions embroiled her with one or other of the three last
named powers. France had as yet taken a very minor part in the
continual wars which were waged between the rival cities of Italy, and
during the Crusades there had been a close alliance between her and
Venice, the troops of the two nations fighting together at the siege of
Constantinople, and causing the temporary overthrow of the Greek
Empire of the East.
The rise of Venice had been rapid, and she owed her advancement to a
combination of circumstances. In the first place, her insular position
rendered her almost impervious to attack, and she had therefore no
occasion to keep on foot any army, and was able to throw all her
strength on to the sea, where Genoa was her only formidable rival. In
the second place, her mercantile spirit, and her extensive trade with the
East, brought in a steady influx of wealth, and her gold enabled her to
purchase allies, to maintain lengthy struggles without faltering, and to
emerge unscathed from wars which exhausted the resources, and
crippled the powers, of her rivals.
The third source of her success lay in the spirit of her population. Like
Rome in her early days, she was never cast down by reverses.
Misfortune only nerved her to further exertions, and after each defeat
she rose stronger than before. But the cause which, more than all,

contributed to give to Venice her ascendancy among the cities of Italy,
was her form of government. Democratic at first, as among all
communities, it had gradually assumed the character of a close
oligarchy, and although nominally ruled by a council containing a large
number of members, her destinies were actually in the hands of the
Doge, elected for life, and the Council of Ten, chosen from the great
body of the council. Thus she had from the first been free from those
factions which were the bane of Genoa and Florence. Some of the great
families had from time to time come more prominently to the front than
others, but none had attained predominant political power, and beyond
a few street tumults of slight importance, Venice had not suffered from
the popular tumults and uprisings which played so prominent a part in
the history of her rivals.
Thus, undisturbed by discord at home, Venice had been able to give all
her attention and all her care to her interests abroad, and her affairs,
conducted as they were by her wisest citizens, with a single eye to the
benefit of the state, had been distinguished by a rare sagacity. Her
object had been single and uniform, to protect her own interests, and to
prevent any one city on the mainland attaining such a preponderance as
would render her a dangerous neighbour. Hence she was always ready
to ally herself with the weaker against the stronger, and to aid with
money and men any state struggling against an ambitious neighbour.
Acting on this principle she by turns assisted Padua against Verona,
and Verona against Padua, or either of them when threatened by the
growing power of Milan, and at the end of a war she generally came
out with an increased territory, and added importance.
It is probable that no community was ever governed, for hundreds of
years, with such uniform wisdom and sagacity as was Venice; but the
advantage was not without drawbacks. The vigilance of the Council of
Ten in repressing plots, not unfrequently set on foot by the enemies of
the republic, resulted in the adoption of a hateful system of espionage.
The city was pervaded with spies, and even secret denunciations were
attended to, and the slightest expression of discontent against the ruling
authorities was severely punished. On the other hand, comparatively
slight attention was paid to private crime. Assassinations were of

frequent occurrence, and unless the victim happened to be very
powerfully connected, no notice was taken when a man was found to be
missing from his usual place, and his corpse was discovered floating in
the lagoon. Consequently